


petals: blue, yellow, red

by haikyuutrash



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Hanahaki Disease, Kinda, M/M, Mentions of Death, Nobody Dies, minor descriptions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23982739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikyuutrash/pseuds/haikyuutrash
Summary: The feeling in his throat was back and Kenma quickly shoved his game in his bag, standing up to leave the room before he coughed too loudly and woke the whole team up. Kuroo looked at him worriedly. “Kenma, are you---”“I’m fine,” he answered, his voice nearly inaudible. He didn’t wait for a response as he rushed out of the door in the direction of the bathroom, trying his best to contain the rising feeling in his throat.###A kuroken Hanahaki AU (??) that still complies with canon details (kinda).
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 22
Kudos: 294





	1. ❀❀❀

**Author's Note:**

> been wanting to try this for a while and might have gotten a little carried away---
> 
> // it's actually a one-shot but i thought it was kinda long so i split it up
> 
> // also don't mind the title LMAO i know it sounds weird

The room was silent, other than the tapping of Kenma’s fingers against the game console. The rest of the team was already asleep, preparing for the last day of training camp. Well, other than Kuroo, who’d gone to talk to the captain of Fukurodani. Kenma rubbed his eyes gently, watching the loading screen of the next stage in his video game. It was getting close to midnight, but as usual, Kenma wasn’t going to sleep yet. The dim lights of his screen lit up the small area around him, reflecting a faint glow off his eyes.

“Still awake?” he heard a voice and turned around to see his friend walking towards him.

Kenma nodded, looking back at his screen where the game had finally loaded.

Kuroo sighed and sat down on his sleeping bag beside Kenma’s. “You should sleep soon,” he mumbled, peeking over Kenma’s shoulder to take a glimpse at his game. “Tomorrow we’ll be having a lot of matches.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kenma said. He felt Kuroo’s hair brush against his skin and he flinched slightly, feeling a shiver travel through his body.

It wasn’t like they hadn't been so close before, but Kenma just felt a little different this time. Maybe it was because Yamamoto had been going on during dinner about what kind of girls were his type. Maybe it was because Kenma had been sitting at the same table and had started wondering what _his_ own type was. And maybe it was because at that moment, he’d turned to look at Kuroo and gone, _Oh._

If Kenma were completely honest, there wasn’t anything surprising about that. He’d known Kuroo since young and he could say that Kuroo was probably one of those who knew him the best. And he’d never gotten annoyed at Kenma for his constant gaming of his lack of motivation to do anything. He accepted Kenma the way he was and he’d always been by his side and perhaps that was why Kenma found himself with a _tiny_ crush on him.

Maybe ‘tiny’ was an understatement.

There were a few moments of silence as Kuroo watched Kenma playing his game. “Just don’t stay up too late, okay?” Kuroo finally said quietly. Kenma could feel Kuroo’s breath against his neck and his throat began to itch. He swallowed his saliva and whatever had risen in his throat. It was probably just some food anyway, even if he’d eaten no more than fruits for dinner. He nodded subtly and Kuroo pulled away.

The feeling in his throat was back and Kenma quickly shoved his game in his bag, standing up to leave the room before he coughed too loudly and woke the whole team up. Kuroo looked at him worriedly. “Kenma, are you---”

“I’m fine,” he answered, his voice nearly inaudible. He didn’t wait for a response as he rushed out of the door in the direction of the bathroom, trying his best to contain the rising feeling in his throat.

Kenma didn’t know why, or how, flower petals had gotten into his body. But if there was one thing he knew, it was that it wasn’t a good sign. He stared at the three pale blue petals in his hand before crushing them and stuffing them in his pocket. Since when did people cough out flowers? He cupped some tap water in his hand before drinking it, letting it flush down his throat. He wasn’t an expert with flowers, but he knew that those petals he’d just coughed out belonged to a forget-me-not. Apparently, those signified remembrance and true love.

 _Ironic much,_ he thought, sighing as he lifted his head to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He’d heard of coughing flowers before, but even so, he’d never really cared enough about it to read up on the subject. That would have to change. He broke his eye contact with his reflection in the mirror, only to see the reflection of a second figure standing behind him.

He turned around immediately, finding himself facing Fukurodani’s setter. “How long,” Kenma asked, “have you been standing there?”

With a sympathetic look in his eyes, Akkashi replied, “Since you coughed out the petals.”

Great, so now somebody knew that Kenma had some sort of weird problem. “I must have swallowed a flower during dinner,” Kenma lied, feigning an ignorant look on his face. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Swallowed...a flower?” Akaashi repeated, looking at him sceptically.

Kenma smiled nervously, which probably only made him more suspicious. “...Yeah.”

Akaashi sighed. “You sure you didn’t cough it out?” he asked, though he seemed like he already knew the answer. Kenma didn’t respond and stood there with a blank look on his face. “Hanahaki,” Akkashi finally said, shaking his head slowly. “You might want to search it up.” He walked past Kenma into one of the cubicles.

Kenma remained where he was for a few more seconds. _There’s no way I’m searching that up,_ he thought. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss. He hurried back to the room, where Kuroo seemed to have fallen asleep already. Kenma reached for his phone in his pocket, then stopped himself. Maybe he should just sleep and wake up forgetting all of this. He wormed his way into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes.

He still ended up searching it up anyway. It’d taken a few hours of being unable to sleep before he’d finally relented and taken his phone while still lying down, deciding that there was no harm finding out about it earlier --- just in case it was really something he had to deal with. And maybe, just maybe, he regretted finding out at all.

Hanahaki turned out to be a disease that came as a result of unrequited love, where the victim would cough out flowers until they died, until their love was requited, or until their crush passed away. Kenma frowned. What was he supposed to do? Kill Kuroo? He was definitely _not_ going to confess, because there was a little to no chance that Kuroo would like him back anyway and he’d rather die with his dignity in place.

He continued scrolling down the article, freezing when he saw the word ‘cure’. He stared intently at the words, his eyes traversing the screen over and over. _A surgery?_ he wondered. But it wasn’t without side effects --- when the flowers were surgically removed, he’d also lose his ability to love anyone and everyone forever. Kenma bit his lip. He didn’t think that was a great idea and to be honest, he was a little afraid of the idea of getting surgery.

With a quiet exhale, he curled his body in the sleeping bag and placed the phone face down on the floor above his head. The article remained lighting up a thin border on the ground surrounding his phone, waiting for the screen to auto-lock. He’d probably just wait and see what would happen. After all, he wasn’t sure he really had this sickening disease and maybe he was just being paranoid. Kenma stared at the sleeping body of Kuroo in front of him for a few seconds before he forced his eyes shut. His fingers fiddled with the petals in his pocket, slowly tearing them up into tiny pieces.

###

For nearly a week, Kenma saw no signs of flowers emerging from his throat. That, he decided, was a good sign. Maybe it’d all been a dream, or maybe he’d really somehow swallowed a flower. Whatever it was, it was better than having that stupid flower-vomiting disease. Practice went on as normal, other than a slightly increased intensity for the upcoming Tokyo Prefectural Qualifiers. Not wanting to risk the flowers again, Kenma had avoided getting too close to Kuroo for the few days after the camp. He was pretty sure Kuroo didn’t notice the change.

He was wrong.

“Kenma,” he heard his best friend’s voice as he’d entered the locker room. The others had left already and it was only the two of them now, which to Kenma, probably wasn’t an ideal situation. “What’s up with you?”

Kenma looked at him innocently. “What’s up with what?”

“Y’know, you seem to...how do I put this?” Kuroo seemed to be struggling to find the right words and gestured wildly with his hands before sighing in frustration. “I don’t know...I just feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

“How so?” Kenma asked. He hadn’t really gone out of the way to avoid Kuroo, so he was a little curious as to how the captain knew something was different.

“Well, for one, every time I touch you, you flinch.”

Kenma scowled. “That’s normal. I don’t like being touched.”

“ _But_ , that’s not all. You used to wait for me before going to the locker room but nowadays you disappear after practice and then come here alone.”

“I...went to the toilet,” Kenma said. Which really, wasn’t a lie since he’d always hid in the toilet using his phone for a good ten minutes after practice.

Kuroo raised an eye at him. “After _every_ practice?”

Kenma didn’t know how to answer that. “I’m not avoiding you,” he said, bypassing the question. He stood up and packed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

“Kenma, don’t change the sub---”

The setter was out of the locker room before Kuroo finished speaking.

“See? What did I say?” Kuroo said, catching up to him with a minimally exasperated look on his face. “Something is clearly wrong.”

“Even if that’s the case, it’s none of your business,” Kenma said almost immediately in an unexpectedly emotionless voice. It’d come out harsher than he’d thought it would and Kuroo seemed confused at the sound of it. Kenma quickened his footsteps and Kuroo matched his pace.

“You’re really making me worried,” Kuroo mumbled, audibly but clearly not meant for Kenma to hear. Kenma pretended that the words hadn’t gotten to his ears and continued walking. For the rest of the way home, neither of them spoke a word. It was an unfamiliar and awkward silence, but Kenma felt that maybe it was better that way.

Once they’d arrive outside of Kenma’s house, the setter decided that he’d head in as soon as possible. Of course, Kuroo wouldn’t let him. As Kenma turned to enter his house, Kuroo grabbed his wrist and spun him around so they were facing each other. Not letting Kenma run away, he raised his other hand and gently touched Kenma’s forehead. Even though the contact lasted no more than three seconds, it was enough to send a surge of warmth through Kenma’s body in the cold of the night.

“If you’re not feeling well,” Kuroo said, dropping his hand to beside him and then stuffing it into the pocket of his track jacket, “you should’ve sat out of practice.” He let go of Kenma’s wrist, much to Kenma’s relief. “Nobody’s gonna get mad or anything.”

Kenma nodded, trying his best to convince himself that _no_ , his throat wasn’t itching.

There was a moment of silence. Then Kuroo smiled softly at him and Kenma realised that perhaps his throat was _really_ itching after all. He tugged at the bottom of his jacket, anxiously waiting to dash into his house and lock himself in the bathroom. “Take care of yourself, I don’t want you getting sick.” That was the last straw.

 _How?_ Kenma wondered as he turned around and ran into the house, ignoring the surprised and bewildered looks that Kuroo was giving him. He passed by his mother and went straight to his room after a quick greeting. He’d hardly made it to his bathroom before he started coughing, slamming his hands on the sides of the sink and letting the petals fall out of his mouth.

_It’s your fault that I’m sick._

Periwinkles.

Leaning against the headboard of his bed, Kenma pulled his knees to his chest, examining the light blue petal between his fingers. _Everlasting love._ He shuddered and relaxed his fingers, letting the petal drift onto the bed and blend in with the five others. There was no way he’d actually eaten a flower this time because as far as he could remember, he hadn’t eaten lunch that day.

He picked up his phone from beside him and opened his browser app. What made this more disturbing than before was that the petals hadn’t just been normal like in the camp, but there were tiny specks of blood that could be seen upon close observation. Kenma wasn’t sure he wanted to die so soon --- he was still waiting for the release of the sequel to one of his favourite games. His fingers hovered over the search bar for a moment before he typed out a few words regarding blood in the Hanahaki disease.

Under the first article, a few suggested images appeared and Kenma felt his stomach churn. It wasn’t just specks of blood in the pictures, but one of the worse ones showed blood pouring out of a person’s mouth, along with the petals. Kenma instinctively brought a hand to his lips. It was probably his imagination, but the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He shut off his phone.

“Kenma, come down for dinner!” His mother’s voice came from downstairs and Kenma hurriedly gathered the petals, wrapped them in tissue paper, and dumped them into the bin. He hadn’t bothered to change his clothes yet because he honestly wasn’t in the mood to do anything other than mope around and hope he wouldn’t die before the game release.

He dragged himself to the dining table. His mother had cooked his favourite dishes that night, but Kenma was unfortunately in no mood to eat. He’d pretty much lost his appetite, and he figured that blood and rice wouldn’t go very well together. He stood beside the chair for a while, as if contemplating if he should just skip dinner and go to bed. He’d already skipped lunch anyway, so what was one more skipped meal?

“Are you alright?” his mother asked, sounding visibly concerned. “You look---” In the midst of her sentence, she stopped. It was an abrupt ending to something like that, but something told Kenma it wasn’t that simple when she started walking towards him. He remained completely still as she reached her hand out to the bottom of his shirt. His eyes followed her hand down and---

_Oh._

She picked up a small blue petal hanging off the edge of his shirt. Kenma probably should have counted the petals before throwing them away. “Kenma,” she asked in a wary voice, “what is this?”

Kenma didn’t know any better, so he merely replied, “A periwinkle petal.” Because _obviously_ it was a flower petal, but maybe if he sounded convincing enough, she wouldn’t ask _how_ a flower petal got onto his shirt.

She seemed to believe that there wasn’t anything wrong for a while, but then her eyes narrowed and she held the petal closer to take a better look at it. “Blood,” she said, and for a moment, Kenma’s heart stopped. She looked at him with her face turning pale. “Why is there blood on the petal?”

“Because I...”

_Got hurt during practice? Witnessed a murder? Killed someone? Am secretly a vampire? Decided that it would be a good idea to sprinkle blood on a flower petal for absolutely no reason?_

“...tried to eat it and bit my finger.”

Out of all the things he could have said, and he chose _that_? Kenma was internally beating himself up. Avoiding eye contact with his mother, he turned his head to stare at the food on the table. All of a sudden, he wanted to start eating and pretend this never happened.

Clearly, his mother wasn’t taking in his unconvincing lie. “Are you...sick?” she asked, her voice quivering slightly as if she herself was afraid of the thought. “Kenma, did you throw up this flower?” She seemed to know what she was talking about and Kenma realised his secret wouldn’t be a secret for much longer.

He nodded gingerly. Why, of all the people in the world, did _he_ have to get this disease? “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, not sure what he was really sorry about but just deciding that it’ll make him feel better if he let out an apology. If there was someone he was sorry to, it was probably himself for having these damned feelings.

Kenma’s mother looked at him for a few more seconds before sighing. “Take a seat,” she said, and when he did, she took a seat on a chair beside him. “Tell me when this started.”

“Training camp,” he managed to say, before his voice faded off.

His mother seemed to hesitate with her next question. “Who...is the one?”

Kenma wasn’t sure he wanted to answer that, so he shook his head.

Thankfully, his mother seemed to understand that he wasn’t ready to tell her, so she didn’t probe any further. “Do you know what happens next?”

He nodded.

She looked at him sadly. “Do you want the surgery?”

He paused for a moment, then shook his head. It was a bit much to never love anyone again and Kenma wasn’t going to commit to something like that. Regardless, it was still early to decide and maybe, by some miracle Kenma was afraid to believe in, Kuroo would return his feelings.

His mother looked disappointed that he wasn’t accepting the surgery, but she seemed to realise that they still had time and he may eventually change his mind. “If it gets worse,” she said, “you have to tell me.”

Kenma agreed and stared down at the rice in his bowl, prodding it gently with his chopsticks. Beside him, his mother released the petal and let it fall to the floor.

###

The ball flew in a parabola before it came into contact with the spikers palm and shot to the ground. Kenma wiped the sweat off his forehead with the sleeves of his shirt. “How was that spike?” Lev asked eagerly, walking over to where Kenma was preparing another ball.

Kenma shrugged. “Better than before,” he said.

“Did you hear that?” Lev said excitedly as he started to pester Yaku. “Kenma-san said I improved!” Kenma was in too much of a daze to hear the libero’s response. Not a daze, to be exact, but more as if he had no mood to be doing any of this, or to be at practice at all. It’d been three days since the periwinkles had spilled out of his mouth and he wasn’t sure when the next wave would come. Although, he’d figured that if he could somehow stop seeing Kuroo, maybe he’d get over his stupid crush.

With a quiet sigh, Kenma made a set for the next spiker. And _of course_ , it just had to be Kuroo. There was no interaction, neither were there any words exchanged, but watching Kuroo swing his arm and spike the ball hard into the floor, Kenma felt his throat itch again. To make matters worse, Kuroo turned to look at him with a smile --- not one of his signature smirks but a genuine _smile_.

Kenma looked away. He’d convinced his mother to let him stay home for the past few days so he’d be able to avoid walking to school and back home with Kuroo or interacting with him at all, but this was enough to make up for the previous days. Kuroo seemed to notice something was wrong and his smile faltered. “Kenma, are you---”

The setter turned around, covering his mouth to hide his coughing as he ran straight for the bathroom. “Kenma-san!” he heard Lev call from behind him and seconds later, he heard footsteps following after him, clearly belonging to the first year. “Wait up!”

 _Don’t follow me,_ Kenma screamed in his head, but if he didn’t want to risk the petals falling out of his mouth if he opened it. Thankfully, the petals stayed in his mouth --- along with the taste of blood --- all the way to the bathroom where he let them fall into the toilet bowl and he flushed a mixture of water, blood, and blue flowers. No, not petals. This time, it was whole flowers, though they were fortunately small enough not to get stuck in his throat.

Still panting from running to the bathroom, he leaned over the toilet bowl and stared down at the semi-clear water, which still held traces of small petals and blood. It was only after around half a minute that he stood upright, pulling out a flower that had stuck onto his lower lip. It looked like one of those flowers that came in large batches, but they'd spilled out of his mouth as individuals. He clenched his fist around it before throwing it behind his back, not wanting to take another look at the bloodstained flower.

“A blue hydrangea.”

Kenma spun around at the familiar voice. “Lev?” he questioned, his eyes landing on the flower in the first year’s hand. “What are you doing here?”

Lev lifted his gaze from the flower. “Kuroo-san told me to follow you. He was worried because you didn’t seem well.” Lev shrugged. “I don’t know why he didn’t come to find you by himself.” Kenma was pretty sure he knew why.

He reached over and snatched the flower out of Lev’s hand, tossing it into the toilet bowl and jamming his finger into the flush button. He couldn’t care less if the system was clogged up --- all he wanted was the flower out of his sight.

Kenma had never thought it was possible, but Lev looked deeply concerned. “Kenma-san,” he said quietly, “what happened to you?”

“That’s...none of your business,” Kenma said, walking forward and trying to push his way past Lev, though Lev stretched out an arm to block him. “Let me leave,” Kenma hissed. He didn’t need the world to know he’d gotten a disease because he had a crush on his _best friend_.

“The blue hydrangea represents apology,” Lev said, and Kenma looked away. “A year ago,” he continued, “my cousin had the same disease.”

“I do _not_ have a disease,” Kenma snapped. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince anymore.

“Hanahaki. That’s what it’s called, isn’t it?” For once, Kenma wished Lev was his ignorant and overconfident self instead. Lev fidgeted a little before he continued in a smaller voice, “It’s Kuroo-san, right?”

Knowing there was no way out of this, Kenma sighed and nodded. “Just don’t tell anyone...please.”

It was only then that Lev took his hand off the other side of the cubicle and let Kenma pass. Kenma took a few steps past him and headed towards the exit, determined to leave as soon as he could. Then all of a sudden, he halted in front of the door. “What...” Kenma started, his voice shaking subtly, “...happened to your cousin?”

There was a silent pause before Lev spoke.

“She confessed and it went away.”

_Confess,_ Kenma thought as he walked back to the gymnasium. If somehow he could gather enough courage to confess to Kuroo, then maybe he would be spared of this disease and all that trouble that it brought. He let out a frustrated sigh. Of all the people Kuroo could choose, what was the chance he’d choose Kenma? It was close to impossible that Kuroo would like him back. Furthermore, it would be embarrassing to be rejected to his face and Kenma wasn’t willing to let that happen. His eyes travelled across the room and landed on Coach Nekomata, who was writing something on a clipboard.

 _That’s it,_ he thought. He could _write_ to Kuroo, and that way, it wouldn’t be as awkward even if he got rejected. At most, they’d just pretend it never happened. He started to write a letter in his head, only to be interrupted by a voice.

“Kenma,” he heard, then he shivered because he knew exactly who that voice belonged to, “what happened to you?” Standing opposite him was Kuroo, the worst person he could possibly be seeing now. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to rush to the bathroom again because that would be hard to explain.

“Nothing,” he said quickly and hurried past Kuroo towards the team.

He felt someone grab his arm and turn him around. “If you’re not up to it, you can sit out of practice,” Kuroo said. He didn’t sound upset at all.

“Yeah, I think I will,” Kenma said, mostly so he could get out of the conversation.

Before Kuroo could say another word, Lev rushed over. “Kuroo-san!” he said, nudging Kenma to leave while he could. “What did you think about my spikes earlier?” Immediately, the conversation took a turn and Kenma thanked Lev in his head as he took a seat beside the coaches on the bench.

For the rest of the training, he stayed silent and stared at the ground. Even as they walked home together, neither Kenma nor Kuroo spoke a word. Kuroo seemed to have sensed that Kenma didn’t want to talk to him and though he probably didn’t know why, he didn’t force Kenma to speak. Kenma was grateful that Kuroo understood him. And maybe, also a bit upset that Kuroo understood him too well.

He crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it into his bin, watching as it rebounded off the edge and fell to the floor. Ignoring the crumbled paper and the few others around the bin, he took another fresh sheet of paper and slammed it onto the table. No matter how many times he’d tried to write his confession letter, it just didn’t sound right. It was either too cheesy, too awkward, or just... _weird_. One couldn’t blame him for that --- Kozume Kenma wasn’t a romantic.

He heard a knock on the door before it clicked open and his mother looked into the room. “Kenma...are you alright?”

 _No,_ he wanted to say. _I’m not alright._ But of course, he didn’t. “I’m fine,” he said in a dry voice. “Just...doing school work.” He covered the letter with one of his school textbooks. His mother looked at him suspiciously, but closed the door and walked away.

Kenma heaved a sigh of relief and picked up his pen, tapping it against the surface of the table. He wasn’t sure he wanted his mother to know that he had a crush on his best friend, who also happened to be a guy, and he was suffering a painful flower disease because of that.

He stared at the blank piece of paper in front of him. Perhaps it’d be easier to write if he sounded natural, like the way he’d have said it out loud if he wasn’t so self-conscious. He pressed the tip of his ballpoint pen to the paper and started to write.

It wasn’t surprising when Kenma was unable to finish a letter he had the courage to send, even after spending nearly the whole night writing. None of them had satisfied him and although he’d written one that he found rather natural, he’d chucked it under a few of his textbooks when he realised that he wasn’t actually brave enough to give it to Kuroo. Disappointing, but not surprising at all.

As usual, he went to school with Kuroo. Throughout their journey, all he could think about was the letter and the godforsaken flowers. Why couldn’t he have just _not_ have feelings? It wasn’t fair that he had to suffer this disease, while other people could just have crushes that went by just like that. Unless, of course, this wasn’t just a crush.

Kenma rubbed a finger against his temple, trying to get rid of the rising headache. “You alright?” Kuroo asked as they approached the school gates. “You haven't seemed very well lately.”

“I’m fine,” Kenma replied in a monotonous voice.

“If there’s anything wrong, you can tell me,” Kuroo continued, to which Kenma nodded grudgingly. Kuroo stopped in his tracks and Kenma subconsciously did the same. Kuroo was looking at him with a perturbed expression. “Tell me honestly,” he said, “is something bothering you?”

 _Yeah,_ Kenma thought, _you._ But what came out was a quiet ‘no’ before he started walking again. Even without looking, he was sure Kuroo was looking at him strangely and wondering what had happened because it was becoming more and more obvious that ‘no’ was a lie. He caught up with Kenma and with a firm grip on his shoulder, turned him around.

Kuroo probably shouldn’t have done that.

The moment they were facing each other again, Kenma realised how close they were. And no, he really shouldn't be bothered by this because they’d hugged each other before when they were children and--- _Oh, right._ They weren’t children anymore and Kenma now had a _huge_ crush on his childhood friend.

Much to his horror, Kenma could feel something crawling up his throat as Kuroo started speaking again. “You don't have to hide anything from me,” he said. “We’re friends, aren’t we? We’re supposed to be there for each other.”

Kenma nodded, not daring to open his mouth. Blood still tasted bad, even if he was getting used to it. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it in, so as soon as Kuroo let go of his shoulder, Kenma turned and ran in the direction of the nearest bathroom, clinging onto the hope that no one was there.

 _Friends,_ he reminded himself.

_Just friends._

This time, it was a mixture of petals, flowers, and blood. As with every time he’d thrown them up, the blood only increased in volume. Kenma could tell that it wasn’t a good sign. He stared at the flower in his hand before tossing it into the toilet bowl with the others. The others, and the blood. He’d checked that there was no one around before he’d entered the toilet so at least he’d have the whole place to himself to get over the fact that he was getting closer to death. He’d started out worrying that he’d never see the release of the video game sequel, but as time had passed, Kenma realised that maybe he really didn’t want to die so early.

He slammed the cover of the toilet bowl shut before aggressively pressing the flush button multiple times, desperate to wipe away the last traces of blood and flower residue. Daffodils --- the flower of unrequited love. He couldn’t help but let out a sad laugh. Finally something that he could relate to, something that didn’t seem all positive and romantic anymore. Maybe the flowers had started giving up on him too.

After one more cough, he turned around to leave the cubicle and wash his face at the sink. He took one step out and froze. “Kenma,” he heard the dreaded voice, “what is going on?” Leaning against the wall, now walking towards him, was Kuroo. Of anyone that could have witnessed this, why did it have to be him? Kenma took a step back, so small that Kuroo would probably not have noticed if he wasn’t paying attention.

Unfortunately, he was. Kuroo reached out to Kenma and he flinched as Kuroo’s thumb came into contact with the corner of his mouth, wiping it gently. Kuroo retracted his hand and studied the partially dried red fluid he’d removed from Kenma’s lips. Kenma opened his mouth to explain, only for a petal to fall out because Kuroo wasn’t supposed to just touch him like that and him to feel _nothing_. The petal drifted slowly to the floor, as if in slow motion.

“Kenma, what the hell?” Kuroo said in a shaky voice, staring at Kenma as the setter stared right back. Kenma didn’t know what to do, or what to say, or if he should even do or say anything at all.

He swallowed back whatever was rising up to his mouth, wincing slightly at the feeling. “It’s nothing,” he said, keeping his voice as steady as possible. _Nothing I’m not used to._ He could feel something dripping off his mouth again. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought you were acting a little weird so I decided to follow you and...you’re _bleeding_ ,” Kuroo said, seemingly unsure of how he should be handling this situation. “The petal, Kenma. I know what’s going on.” Kenma feared that he really did. “Who is it?” Kuroo asked, sounding increasingly anxious with every word. “Who made you end up like this?”

Kenma averted his eyes. _If only you knew._ “A girl in class,” he lied. He wasn’t going to let Kuroo know that it was him. He wasn’t ready to face rejection right now, especially when he’d just decided that maybe he’d be getting the surgery after all. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” It took more strength than it should have to say that.

Kuroo frowned. “Have you tried confessing to her?”

If he said that he hadn’t, Kenma was sure that Kuroo would ask him to. And then, his lie would be shattered. “No,” he said, “she has a boyfriend.” Another lie, to cover up the first. How long he could keep this up was something he was willing to never find out. “I’ve told you,” he said, “it’s fine.”

“You’re getting the surgery?” Kuroo asked hesitantly and Kenma nodded. Kuroo’s expression changed and for some reason, he seemed upset. “You know that you’ll never be able to love again, right?”

Kenma sighed. “Is death a better option?”

Kuroo shook his head. He didn’t say another word and instead, he led Kenma to the sink where he helped him clean off the drying blood around his mouth. Kenma appreciated the help, but at the same time, a part of him wished that Kuroo hadn’t helped at all.

With Kuroo’s intervention, Kenma got permission to sit out of practice until his surgery. Whilst he didn’t know when he’d be getting it, or if he’d really be getting it at all, he’d told Kuroo that it would be soon and before the Tokyo Prefectural Qualifiers. Throughout practice, he could see Kuroo casting quick glances to check on him. If he hadn’t been Kuroo’s best friend since childhood, he might have believed that he stood a chance with Kuroo.

In the middle of practice, Kenma decided to walk out for some fresh air. He’d wanted to be alone, but it wasn’t too bad when Lev came out to join him. “Kenma-san,” the first year said, “have you told him?”

By ‘him’, Kenma assumed that he was referring to Kuroo. “Kind of,” he said. When Lev looked at him in confusion, he added, “He knows about the disease, but he doesn’t know _who_ caused it.”

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?” Lev asked quietly.

Kenma shook his head. “He believes it's a girl in my class.”

Lev looked like he was choosing his words carefully before he asked, “Don’t you think he likes you, though?”

“Impossible,” Kenma said, and he hated how quickly he’d said it. “There’s no way he’d like me in that way. We’re just...friends.”

“But he’s always looking out for you,” Lev stated, “and he seems to care more about you than anyone else.”

“That’s what you call ‘best friends’,” Kenma said with a sigh. He glanced into the gymnasium, where the others were practising their receives. “I’ll be alright,” he told Lev. “You should go in and join the practice.” The first year could do nothing but listen to Kenma’s advice and return to the rest of the team.

It was marigolds that night, after Kuroo had held Kenma’s hand in a comforting way that had clearly backfired. He’d choked out the last of the flowers, leaving a painful sensation in his throat for the next half an hour. He didn’t have the appetite to eat dinner and his parents knew about his plight, so they let him be. He still hadn’t told them that it was Kuroo, or that he was planning to get the surgery.

Every part of his body was urging him that he should rid himself of the flowers as soon as he could, but a small part of his heart was still unwilling to let go. To be unable to love anyone would mean that he’d never be able to love Kuroo again. What if someday Kuroo decided that he loved Kenma too? Maybe, if not for the accursed disease, Kenma wouldn’t mind harbouring a secret crush on Kuroo for the rest of his life in the hopes of his feelings being returned someday. Kenma wasn’t sure if he was ready to never love again, at the young age he was at.

He attempted to distract himself by picking up his game console and trying to continue where he’d previously left off, but for the first time ever, he wasn’t in the mood to play. He dropped the console onto his bed and collapsed onto his side, clutching onto fistfuls of the blanket. There were still small splatters of dried blood on the sheets, a result of his occasional coughs. The more he stared at the blood, the more he hated himself for loving Kuroo. He’d hate Kuroo too, but after everything Kuroo had done for him, Kenma couldn’t.

He picked up his phone and while still lying down, searched up the disease once more. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know anything else that would only make him feel worse, but he did wonder how long more he had left. Unsurprisingly, he completely regretted his decision. He was already far into the disease and eventually, according to the articles he read, he’d be in pain continuously when his condition deteriorated. He brought a hand to his throat and gently touched it. He could still feel the mild soreness left behind by the marigolds and the thought of coughing out something worse than that was highly disturbing.

He closed the tab and opened another, searching ‘how to get over a crush’. Maybe he was underestimating this disease, but if there was any way he could bypass both the surgery, death, and confessing, then he’d take it anytime. He clicked on the first article and scrolled through it. _Talk to a friend,_ he read. Funny enough, Kuroo was probably the only friend he’d talk about something like that to, if he’d even talk to a friend about it at all. He was most certainly not going to talk to Kuroo about having a crush on him. _Next,_ he continued reading, _minimise contact with the person._ How exactly was he supposed to do that?

He sighed helplessly and shut off his phone. Couldn’t it have been someone else? Someone, other than his childhood best friend that he spent hours with every day? He dragged himself off his bed to take a shower. He didn’t even flinch as the cold water touched his skin. He could feel something flowing down his face, but under the running water, he could no longer tell what it was. Had this not been a disease that was slowly killing him, the petals and the blood blending in with the water would have made a pleasing aesthetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll post the next chapter tomorrow.
> 
> maybe.


	2. ❀❀❀

He’d gotten off school for the rest of the week after persuading his parents that it’d be better that way. For days since then, he’d been locking himself in his room and engrossing himself in video games. He’d told his mother not to let anyone see him and though Kuroo had apparently visited several times, he’d been turned away and told that Kenma would be fine. Kenma hadn’t checked his phone in a long time too, mostly because he suspected Kuroo had tried contacting him. It didn’t cure him, but at least he hadn’t interacted with Kuroo in a while and that made things look like they were taking a positive turn.

When the weekend came, Kenma was starting to get tired of staying in his room. While he’d gone down for several meals, he still spent a majority of time in his room, so much that he was running out of video games to play. Finally deciding it was time he left the house, Kenma grabbed a hoodie from his clothes rack and slipped it on, covering his head with the hood so that no one would recognise him.

He’d taken his phone before he’d left and checked his messages on the way out. There were multiple missed calls and nearly a hundred messages from Kuroo, all asking how he was and why he wouldn’t let anyone see him. Kenma sighed, shutting off his phone and stuffing it in his pocket. “Don’t come home too late,” his mother had called out to him as he was walking out, “and call me if anything happens.” Kenma hoped that he wouldn’t have to.

It took him ten minutes before he arrived at the video game store near his house. He pushed the door open and walked in, starting to browse the shelves for any games that looked interesting. Any other day, he’d probably have wanted to buy lots of them. But now, he couldn’t find anything he was interested in. Perhaps he just wasn’t in the mood for it. He politely declined an employee’s offer to help and left the store, heading home.

And then he felt a hand on his shoulder. The moment he turned around, he was embraced in a tight hug. He didn’t have to think twice to know who it was.

_No. No. NO._

He wrestled his way out of Kuroo’s grip and took a large step back. _Idiot,_ he thought, glaring at Kuroo. _You can’t go around hugging people like that._ Kenma opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a painful cough. There was panic in his eyes as he turned around and ran. He didn’t know where he was going, but all he knew was that he had to get as far away from Kuroo as possible.

“Kenma---” He shut his ears off to Kuroo’s shouting as he tried not to focus on the footsteps closing in on him. The petals, or possibly flowers, emerging from his throat were filling his mouth and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep them in. He couldn’t make it back to his house in time and he knew that, so he took a turn at the end of the street, his legs moving faster and faster every second.

He’d made it to the empty field where he’d played volleyball with Kuroo in the past when the petals began to fall out. The grass soaked up the blood and Kenma was horrified to find that it was more than before. But of course, after what Kuroo had done, it wasn’t a surprise anymore. “Why did you run away?” he heard Kuroo say from behind him, but his voice trailed off towards the end.

Kenma was on his knees, leaning over the bloodied grass and the yellow pansies, still feeling a throbbing pain in his throat. “Go...away...” he found enough of his voice to say, though his words were separated by his hacking coughs.

Contrary to what his friend had asked for, Kuroo lowered himself beside Kenma and gently patted his back. “Did you see her?” he asked softly. “Your crush, I mean. You just started coughing all of a sudden and it really scared me.”

Kenma nodded, because it wouldn’t have made any sense if he’d started coughing for no reason.

If staying there hadn’t been bad enough, Kuroo just _had_ to put his arm around Kenma’s shoulder, shortening the distance between them. Kenma could feel something rising in his throat, even if his body already felt numb from the pain. He nudged Kuroo away with whatever energy he had left. “Stay away,” he said in a hoarse voice, barely giving himself a second to breath before he started throwing up flowers and blood again.

It typically lasted for a few minutes at most, but as Kuroo remained beside him, it wasn’t stopping. It felt like something was clawing at his throat, sending a burning sensation through his upper body. No matter how much he tried to contain it, it kept going. His vision blurred as he stared down at the patches of red and yellow on the grass. He heard a muffled voice speaking, but even then, he couldn’t reply. He turned his head for the shortest moment and saw a sad look on Kuroo’s face.

_Don’t look at me like that._

He coughed out one more flower, this time with its stem protruding out from behind. It wasn’t long and matched the length of Kenma’s index finger at most and thankfully, there weren’t any thorns. But even despite all of that, it was enough to put him in a great deal of suffering. If love was supposed to be something that people celebrated, then why was he like this? Blame his terrible luck. The last thing he heard before passing out was his name in a voice he wished he could erase from his memory.

###

The world came to focus before his eyes. _Where...am I?_ he mouthed, unable to get any words out. His back ached as he sat upright. Whatever this place was, it was quiet. It took him a few seconds to look around and from his surroundings, figure out that he was in a hospital room. Great, just _great_. There wasn’t anyone around to tell him what he was doing here and he racked his brains to remember what had happened.

 _The field...the flowers...Kuro..._ He sighed, realising that he’d probably gone unconscious at the field and Kuroo had somehow brought him here, perhaps by calling an ambulance. He shook his head slowly. He should have just stayed at home, where he was nevertheless dying but not as quickly as he would be now. He adjusted the hospital bed so he could lean his back against it. There was a quiet buzz and he turned his head to find his phone on the small table next to him.

There were several messages from Kuroo as well as his parents. He clearly hadn’t realised, but he’d been sleeping for a whole day. His mother had gone to have lunch and she’d left a message to tell him that she’d be back soon. Kuroo, on the other hand, had left tons of messages to tell Kenma that he would be visiting soon and reminding him to take care of himself.

“Kozume-san?” Kenma looked up from his phone to see a nurse walking over. “Are you aware of what you’re diagnosed with?” the nurse asked, tapping her pen lightly against her clipboard. Kenma nodded. “And would you be getting surgery?”

“I...don’t know,” Kenma admitted. “I’d like some time to think.” Truthfully, he’d had plenty of time to think. But now that he was already in the hospital, he decided that there was no harm delaying the surgery for as long as he could. At most, he’d just have the surgery the moment his disease became too much for him to handle.

The nurse gave him a sympathetic look. “Don’t hesitate to alert us if you need assistance,” she said kindly. Kenma nodded again. She walked out and Kenma was left in silence again.

His mother returned to the ward after another hour that Kenma spent playing a game on his phone. “Kenma,” she said quietly, “your father and I have discussed and...we think that you should accept surgery quickly before the situation escalates.”

Kenma tightened his fist on the blanket covering his body. He wasn’t mad at his parents, or at anyone for that matter. He was just increasingly frustrated at the fact that for every moment he spent deliberating the surgery, he was being eaten up by flowers on the inside. “When it gets worse,” he said, his voice cracking slightly, “then I’ll get surgery.”

Taking a seat on a chair beside the bed, his mother sighed. “How much worse will you let it get before you agree?”

Kenma bit his lip and shrugged.

“Is it _really_ worth risking your life for love? Does that person you love _really_ mean that much to you?” Even without it being said, Kenma’s mother knew that the reason he was refusing surgery wasn’t because he wanted to love in the future, but because he couldn’t let go of the present.

“Yes,” Kenma replied. He didn’t know what else he could add to that, so he left it as the single word it was. He didn’t even notice when his mother got up and left the room because at that moment, all Kenma could think of was how he’d suddenly realised that _of course_ Kuroo meant that much to him. And after the time he’d spent trying to get over his crush, he found that maybe it wasn’t possible after all.

Because maybe it was never just a crush.

Yes, Kuroo was annoying and loud and stubborn and sometimes Kenma wished he could leave him alone, but amidst all of that, Kenma still loved him. _“You like because, and you love despite.”_ He couldn’t remember where he’d heard that, though he’d never actually understood it until now. He’d called them ‘stupid feelings’ but now that he thought about it, he didn’t actually mind them that much. Kenma decided that as cheesy as it may sound, _he didn’t mind loving Kuroo_.

“Hah,” he breathed out, half laughing and half in torment. An ironic smile found its way onto his face as he took the pillow from behind him and hugged it to his chest, burying his face into it. Kozume Kenma was in love with his best friend, though perhaps that wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it was. If there wasn’t a way out of this, then he’d just spend as much time as he could with Kuroo and then even after it got worse, even after he’d possibly die, he’d have had it well.

He took out his phone and sent Kuroo a message. For the first time since he’d thrown up the flowers, he wasn’t afraid to be with Kuroo anymore.

The door to the ward opened and after closing it behind him, Kuroo rushed in. Kenma had been woken up from his nap by the noise, not that he really minded. “Kuro,” he said with a small smile, a genuine one that he hadn't worn in days or possibly weeks. “You came.”

“Of course I came,” Kuroo said, pulling a chair over to sit beside Kenma’s bed. “I wasn’t expecting you to message me...is something wrong?”

Kenma shook his head. “I just...wanted to see you.” After how he’d treated Kuroo and continuously shunned him away, Kenma was pleasantly surprised and grateful that Kuroo still cared about him.

There was a silent pause, then with a trembling voice, Kenma spoke again. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding back quiet sobs. He’d wanted to say that since the training camp, since he’d started _avoiding_ Kuroo, even if he’d denied it over and over again. “The whole time I was just afraid...that you’d hate me for having this disease and you would leave me behind...” His voice faded off. Without the context of who his crush was, Kenma’s words made him seem unnecessarily worried.

“Why would I hate you for loving someone?” Kuroo asked, smiling in disbelief and reaching out to hold Kenma’s hand, squeezing it gently. Kenma could feel the flowers rising in his throat again but he tried his best to hold them back, just so he could speak, and talk to Kuroo without being interrupted by his loathsome coughing.

 _Because it’s you,_ Kenma wanted to say. Yet, even at a point like this when he hardly had anything left to lose, he couldn’t get the words out. He started coughing again, unable to keep the flowers in any longer.

Broken flowers drenched in blood poured out onto the bed, staining the sheets like they’d done with Kenma’s heart. He grasped desperately onto Kuroo’s hand, not realising that he was only making things worse. But maybe, he didn’t really care anymore. _Red petunias,_ he identified from the ruined bits of flowers that had torn apart while rising up his throat. _Strong attraction and desire._ If he wasn’t choking on his own blood, he’d probably be laughing at how accurate that was.

“I’ll get a doctor,” Kuroo said hurriedly as he pulled his hand away from Kenma’s and ran out of the ward. Feeling the emptiness now that Kuroo had left, Kenma cried out in a strained voice that dispersed into the silence, unheard and unresponded to. Another flower, a complete and intact one, fell out of his mouth, landing softly onto the sheets without making a sound. Kenma reached out to pick it up, holding it in his hand and staring at the colour that was only a few shades lighter than blood.

He crushed it in his hand.

It was half an hour later that he’d settled down, though not without his throat screaming at him to pour cold water down it. Which of course, he did, but it didn’t make anything much better. It felt like there were wounds lining the inside of his throat, probably from flowers and occasionally stems being forced upwards. He still couldn’t understand why there were flowers in his body, but that was the least of his worries right now.

“Are you...feeling better?” Kuroo asked. Throughout the time the doctors and nurses had been trying to help him stop the disease from acting up, Kuroo had waited in the room, leaning against a wall far from the bed because he’d been told not to get too close. Now that the medical staff were gone, he’d rushed back to Kenma’s side.

Kenma thought for a moment, then decided that as long as he wasn’t coughing large amounts of flowers and blood, he was so-called better. “Yeah,” he said. Ever since he’d gotten the Hanahaki disease, his voice had become raspier and as the days passed, he sounded less and less like himself.

Kuroo heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s good.” Sometime ago, if he’d been in this situation, Kenma would have mercilessly chased Kuroo out of the room. Now, however, all he wanted was to stay with Kuroo, quietly in love with him before he wouldn’t be able to feel that anymore. Kuroo took a seat at the side of the bed, turning his body to face Kenma. “Do you want anything to eat? I could---”

Cutting him off, Kenma shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said, sounding uncertain of himself. “Just... _stay_.” Kuroo seemed to understand and he remained where he was, looking quietly at Kenma. For a moment, Kenma felt his heart skip a beat. He was becoming delusional, he decided, because as split of a second it'd been, he’d stared into Kuroo’s eyes and thought that maybe Kuroo _did_ like him back.

 _Friends,_ he reminded himself. The reason Kuroo was still here, the reason he cared about Kenma, was because they’d been best friends since young. Nothing less, but nothing more as well. But even so, the fact that Kuroo, someone who always appeared to be joking around, was actually _worried_ about him, gave Kenma false hope. Maybe that was why he’d loved Kuroo in the first place --- because Kuroo wasn’t just a party animal socialite that went around making friends with everyone and treated Kenma like everyone else. He treated Kenma _differently_. Kenma swallowed his saliva, desperate to prevent any petals from entering his mouth.

“...Earth to Kenma,” he heard Kuroo say and found that Kuroo was waving a hand in front of him, as if Kenma had been in a daze. Immediately, Kenma snapped out of his thoughts.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, lowering his eyes to the blanket.

Kuroo exhaled quietly. “It’s alright.” Choosing his words with heavy discretion, he continued, “If you don’t mind me asking...why don’t you want the surgery soon? I mean...” --- his voice trailed off and only returned after a few seconds --- “is she really _that_ important to you?” Kenma could’ve sworn that Kuroo sounded hurt. But if he was in Kuroo’s place, and his best friend was choosing a girl in class over himself, he’d probably be upset too.

 _I’m sorry,_ he thought, holding back tears. It didn’t feel right to hide all of this from Kuroo, to make him believe that he was choosing someone else over himself that _wasn’t_ Kuroo. He was honestly surprised that Kuroo hadn’t seen through his lie, because Kenma had never been someone for romance. He avoided eye contact and nodded his head.

For the rest of the day, Kuroo stayed by his side, telling him about what he’d missed during practice and assuring him that the team was doing fine even though they’d asked about him many times and were waiting for him to come back. Apparently they’d found out about the disease from Lev, though Kuroo added that the first year had only been very concerned and let it slip out by accident.

“They looked rather surprised when I told them that you liked a girl in class,” Kuroo had said thoughtfully, and Kenma had nearly choked. Had everyone known that it was Kuroo he was really in love with? Kenma was grateful that Kuroo seemed completely oblivious to it.

“Are _you_ surprised?” Kenma had asked, looking curiously at Kuroo.

And Kuroo had shrugged. “I mean, if there was someone you were in love with, I’d have thought of a different candidate.” Kenma had noted that Kuroo’s face was a little red and he’d been relieved when Kuroo changed the topic.

It was funny how their conversation lingered dangerously close to Kenma’s secret being exposed, but fate appeared to pity Kenma and steered them away each and every time. Kenma wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. He’d just assumed the former. At least, that meant he could love Kuroo for a while more.

He hadn’t expected it when the flowers came that night, an hour after Kuroo had left for home. His mother came to visit and upon seeing the red asters in puddles of blood in front of Kenma, she’d freaked out and called for the medical staff. It’d taken almost an hour for Kenma to recover enough to speak and when he did, his mother brought up the surgery again, though Kenma refused like he had before. Knowing there wasn’t a way to convince him and deciding that it was Kenma’s choice, his mother had reluctantly left the room.

The nurse had cleared the flowers before leaving and outside of the time he’d been forcing them out, Kenma had gotten no more than a few seconds to look at them. Still, that was enough for Kenma to make a few observations. Firstly, the red flowers represented undying devotion, according to what he’d searched up after hearing the nurses mention their name. Secondly, it hadn’t just been the flowers that came out --- there had been stems and a few leaves as well, which wasn’t very common before but seemed like they would be something he’d see again.

But what disturbed Kenma most of all wasn’t the large volume of blood that the blanket had absorbed, or the fact that his whole body felt like it was at the verge of collapsing. It was that among the red asters, he’d seen something else. Something _different_. Mixed together with the asters had been a single petal.

A rose petal.

Kenma tried to shut the memory out of his head, telling himself repeatedly that he’d merely been imagining things. But deep in his mind, he knew that he hadn’t. Kenma was sure that a rose petal couldn’t be indicating something good --- not when the red rose was an unmistakable expression of love.

Sometime in his life, he’d heard something that was now coming back to him, haunting him in the darkness he’d enveloped himself within. _“There’s no way to hold something beautiful without consequences.”_

Maybe that was why he was hurting now.

###

When Kenma opened his eyes in the morning, the first thing he felt was a weight on his side. He adjusted his chair upright, only to find Kuroo sitting beside his bed, resting his head in his arms and supposedly asleep. He reached his hand out and gently tapped Kuroo’s shoulder.

“...Kenma?” Kuroo rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his messy hair as he sat upright. “You’re awake.”

Kenma put on a small smile. “How long have you been here?”

Kuroo shrugged, glancing at the clock. “Since an hour ago, maybe.” It was late in the morning so it wouldn’t be that surprising that Kuroo had come at that time. “You must be tired. I mean...with what you’re going through, I guess that’s only normal.”

Taking a sip of water from the bottle on the table next to his bed, Kenma shifted his body to sit properly. His side felt a little numb since Kuroo had slept on it, but Kenma paid no attention to the feeling. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Did you sleep well?” Kuroo asked in a warm voice, sitting forward on the chair.

“Other than coughing out a few more flowers, yeah.” He’d probably made the situation seem better than it was, though he didn’t see what was wrong with doing that. He’d hate to make Kuroo worry about him.

Kuroo looked at him curiously. “More flowers?”

“Red asters,” Kenma said with a sigh.

“Undying devotion,” they said in unison, then both of them broke into a smile.

“Whoever you’ve got this disease for,” Kuroo said, staring down at the dried patch of blood on Kenma’s blanket, “is a lucky person.”

Kenma followed his eyes and ended up staring at the blood too. “How so?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kuroo shrug. “She’s got Kozume Kenma’s undying devotion,” he said, looking up at Kenma with a small smirk.

“And you don’t?” Kenma asked playfully. He immediately regretted his words.

Kuroo’s face changed almost instantly. “What do you mean?”

“I...you... _best friends_ ,” he said, stumbling on his words before saving himself and adding, “that’s a kind of devotion too, isn’t it?”

There was an awkward pause before Kuroo let out a short laugh. “I guess that’s true...being best friends does give me some of your devotion.”

“Yeah,” Kenma said with a half-hearted smile, “best---”

He felt something in his throat and coughed harshly. It started with one cough, then continued with more as the petals, _rose petals_ , began to spill out of his opened mouth. he felt blood rising in his mouth and something sharp prick against the insides of his cheeks.

 _Thorns,_ he realised, his eyes widening both in shock and fear. One of the thorns got stuck in his throat and he found himself having to reach into his mouth to pull it out, tearing a bit of his gum in the process and sending blood splurging out. All the while, the petals continued to fall.

“Kenma!” Kuroo said anxiously, scrambling to stand up and help Kenma with the falling petals, though he wasn’t exactly of much help. “What’s happening? Why are you...” He seemed to have realised that he wouldn’t be getting an answer and started panicking, glancing around the room and trying to find anything he could do to help Kenma.

The colour of the red rose petals blended perfectly with the blood and Kenma could hardly tell what was and wasn’t blood anymore. Maybe, all of it was. He pulled out a long stem covered in thorns and a pitiful cry escaped through his lips. _Stop,_ he begged his body. _I can’t take this any longer._ The good thing was that he was in so much pain that he could hardly feel it anymore. Although, Kenma wasn’t sure that was a good thing at all. There was another piercing feeling in his throat and he knew that another stem was coming.

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Kuroo finally said, knowing there was no way Kenma could stop the petals without the help of the medical staff. “Wait here, I’ll be back really soon.”

It was only then that Kenma realised it was his last chance to confess, and that once Kuroo left the room and came back with the doctors, he’d have no choice but to get surgery right away if he wanted to live. In other words, if he didn’t tell Kuroo about his feelings now, Kuroo would probably never find out that Kenma loved him. So what if he was rejected? Kenma realised, in the very last moments of love he had, that maybe he _wanted_ Kuroo to know. He reached his hand out to stop Kuroo, horrified to find him already halfway across the room.

 _Don’t leave,_ Kenma wanted to scream, but his voice only came out in the form of blood and petals. All he could do was watch as Kuroo vanished past the doorway, unknowingly tearing down Kenma’s last hopes.

Maybe in another life, he’d get his happy ending.

Kuroo picked up his phone.

The sound travelling from the other end was filled with static and shuffling and it sounded like whoever had called was in a hurry. “...Hello?” Kuroo said hesitantly, wondering if it was one of those prank calls again. He’d been pacing outside of Kenma’s ward for the past few minutes and he certainly wasn’t in the mood to deal with one of those.

“Tetsu-kun! Where are you now?”

Kuroo was surprised to hear Kenma’s mother on the other side. “I’m outside Kenma’s ward...is something wrong?”

“How is he?” Kenma’s mother asked, sounding frantic.

“The doctors are checking on him,” Kuroo said. “He started coughing really badly and the doctor said that he might need immediate surgery and...if he does, they’d be starting in about an hour once his cough settles down.”

“Meet me at the hospital lobby, I’m coming over right now!”

The phone line was cut off before Kuroo could respond.

No more than half an hour later, Kuroo stood at the lobby of the hospital and watched Kenma’s mother running towards him. “Kozume-san, what happened?” he asked, having realised that she looked as if she’d been running all the way here, even if she’d gotten out of a cab.

She took a moment to catch her breath before holding out a crumpled piece of paper to Kuroo. “Here,” she said between tired breaths, “I was tidying Kenma’s desk when I found...this.” Kuroo looked at her, visibly confused. “Just read it,” she insisted, pushing it towards him. He took the paper.

It was a letter, he realised. And it was in Kenma’s handwriting. It was written in ballpoint, but the words at the end seemed to be smudged slightly amidst small traces of water. Kuroo felt his heart stop. Those weren’t water droplets --- Kenma had been _crying_ while writing it. He couldn’t find the patience to read through the letter and his eyes landed on the last two lines before Kenma signed off with his name.

_“I’m sorry, Kuro. I think I’m in love with you.”_

He looked up from the letter and his gaze was met with Kenma’s mother’s desperate one. _No way. It can’t be---_ All this time, it’d been him? Maybe he should have realised sooner. How could Kenma have fallen so hard for someone else? His body was shaking as he stood in realisation and fear that the next time he saw Kenma, things would be different.

Then with his fingers still clutching desperately onto the letter, Kuroo turned and ran towards Kenma’s ward, praying to any god who would listen that he wasn’t too late.

“Are you ready?” the doctor asked for the seventh time. “There’s no turning back,” he warned, “although...I’m not sure there’s a better option now.”

And for the seventh time, Kenma nodded.

“I’ll prepare the equipment. Stay calm, many people have gone through the surgery before and there’s a very high chance of success. You’ll be alright.” Kenma wasn’t sure how much he believed the last sentence, but he remained silent. It’d been five minutes since he’d stopped coughing and he’d realised that there really wasn’t another option for him anymore, other than death. Kenma didn’t want to die so soon.

 _I’m sorry, Kuro,_ he thought, closing his eyes and letting his body relax. It was funny that even in a moment like this, he could hear Kuroo shouting his name. And it sounded real --- _so real_ that Kenma almost believed it wasn’t his imagination. Then he heard a second voice. The doctor was shouting. The nurses were shouting too, as if trying to chase someone out of the room.

_Huh?_

Kenma’s eyes flew open and he saw Kuroo beside his bed, looking at him in a different way from before. Kuroo was looking at him as though he _knew_. Kenma dug his fingernails into the skin of his thigh and felt a small bit of pain. But even a small bit was enough to tell him that this was in no way a dream.

 _Kuro,_ he mouthed, _what are you doing here?_

Kuroo calmed down for a moment and the medical staff backed away. Kenma nearly forgot that he was preparing for a surgery. All that mattered was that Kuroo was here, and that _Kenma still loved him_. “Kenma,” Kuroo said in a weary voice, reaching his hand out to touch Kenma’s face, “you should never have lied to me.”

He leaned forward and kissed Kenma.

The nurse swept the last of the rose petals off Kenma’s blanket before she left the room with the medical staff, leaving Kenma and Kuroo alone. Since Kuroo had kissed him, Kenma hadn’t coughed out any more petals or flowers. He did throw up a small volume of blood, but it was only the residue of what the disease had left in him. It was strange that the flowers could disappear as quickly as they’d come, but Kenma decided that it was a mystery he was willing to never solve.

“So the girl in your class was me,” Kuroo said with a small smirk, sliding under the blanket beside Kenma and snaking an arm around his shoulders. “It would have been better if you’d made it a _little_ more obvious. That way, y’know, I might have guessed.”

Kenma rolled his eyes, lowering the bed slightly and leaning his head against Kuroo’s chest. “The whole point was that you _didn’t_ find out, idiot.”

As Kuroo spoke again, he looked mildly uneasy. “But...I was so close to never finding out and...I don’t think I’d ever have forgiven myself if I didn’t make it here in time.” He sighed. “When I saw your letter...I’d never been _that_ afraid of anything in my life.” 

“Kuroo, we’re okay now, aren’t we?” Kenma said softly. He stopped for a while before adding, “Really, though, did you think I’d have fallen for anyone else?”

“Honestly... _no_ ,” Kuroo said, bopping Kenma’s nose gently. “My Kozume Kenma can’t fall for anyone but me.”

Kenma pouted. “Don’t get so full of yourself.”

“A bit too late for that, don’t you think?” Kuroo asked with a teasing smile.

Kenma snuggled closer to Kuroo and watched as Kuroo glanced at his watch. “You need to go somewhere?” Kenma asked, his voice dipping in mild disappointment.

“Nowhere more important than here,” Kuroo said, shaking his head with the smallest hint of a smile. “It’s getting close to lunchtime, though, and you haven’t had breakfast yet. Want anything? I could go buy something for---”

“It’s fine,” Kenma said. He couldn’t remember when he’d last been able to speak so clearly and without worrying that his words wouldn't come out. “Stay here,” he said quietly, tilting his head up to press a small kiss on Kuroo’s cheek. “Don’t leave again.”

Kuroo tightened his arm around Kenma and pulled him closer. “I won’t,” he said softly. “I promise.”

Under the ceiling lights, even the bloodstains on the blanket seemed to glisten. Kenma lifted his gaze to look at Kuroo, who was staring into the empty space in front of them. In front of them, _ahead_ of them, like the world of possibilities to come. Kenma let go of the bloodstained blanket he’d been unknowingly grasping onto.

He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed it!! <3 if you have the time, do leave a comment to tell me what you think!! :D

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! ❤❤❤
> 
> my tumblr --> ([x](https://hq-iteza.tumblr.com/))


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